He kept to himself most of the time at first, disoriented by his new physical existence and the others in the household. He was not unaware of the other Horcuxes; he was there when the older ones were made, though not as he was now. He was not supposed to be have worn, cursed as he was, but his higher self decided to have other plans for him it seemed.
It made him suspicious. But he had the voices of the dead whispering in his ears and the dead were always suspicious of those so eager to add to their ranks. Being housed in the Resurrection Stone had unforseen effects on this particular soul fragment of Tom Riddle.
He continued to wear the ring, hearing the voices. They were familiar companions in this now unfamiliar world, though he’d wish his mother would stop her pathetic weeping. Not his fault that she fell for a muggle after all.
One day, he finally came out of his room and searched for the Riddle that had greeted him on his first day out of the darkness. Perhaps this one would enlighten him on what was going on.
@riddlemostfeared